8/04/05
Author's Note: I apologize in advance for my attempts at writing a French accent.
After having experienced travel by portkey a few times before, I was able to land on my feet when we arrived at the Burrow, or outside the Burrow, to be exact. The sprawling little house always invoked warm feelings within me, for the Burrow seemed to say 'home' and 'family' (whereas the Dursleys' house seemed to scream 'misery' and 'loneliness'). Even the weather seemed to agree, for it looked to my eyes that a beam of sunlight was shining directly upon the Burrow. Thus, it was with a smile on my face that I approached the Weasley house. I knew that, despite everything else that was going on in my life at the moment, for the next week or so, I could put that all aside. I was also excited to see what a wizarding wedding would look like.
I walked into Burrow and immediately noticed the buzz of activity in the sitting room. Although activity was not a stranger to the Weasley household - having seven children no doubt called for busy and cramped quarters - this particular commotion was notable because there were four or five women bustling around, and none of them had red hair. For a moment I wondered if we had portkey'ed to the wrong house.
I looked at Ron curiously.
"It's Fleur's bridal party," he said by way of explanation.
"Ah, I'm guessing that explains the French, then?"
"Oh, you are a brilliant one, aren't you. A regular Hermione, you are."
Before I could come up with a clever retort, Mrs. Weasley came over from the kitchen and gave me a hug. "Oh Harry, it's so wonderful to see you! You must be famished!"
I nodded, and was about to respond when I noticed that room had suddenly gone quiet. I looked over and saw that all the French girls were quietly whispering among themselves (although I failed to understand why they were whispering when we couldn't understand French when it was spoken loudly) and looking unabashedly at me.
Finally, Fleur stood (my breath hitching in my chest as she did) and said loudly, "Ladies, ladies, please! Eet ees not polite to stare." Then she gave me heart-stopping smile, walked over and kissed me in that marvelous way that the French do.
"Hello Fleur," I managed, feeling my cheeks warm up.
"'Ello 'Arry. It ees good to see you again. Let me intrahduce my bridesmaids." Fleur made the introductions, a couple of them giggled and batted their eyelashes, and I smiled and waved politely before leading a slightly dazed Ron into the kitchen.
"Good to see you're over that whole Veela thing," I remarked.
"Shut it!"
"Ron! Language!" Mrs. Weasley scolded.
"Sorry Mum," said Ron as I mouthed 'ha ha' at him from behind Mrs. Weasley. Though as soon as she turned her back, he made a rude gesture.
"What's so funny, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked me as she set a plate of food down in front of me.
"Oh, nothing. This smells delicious, Mrs. Weasley," I said as I picked up my fork.
She smiled. "Good. Eat up, then. I cooked plenty for you, knowing how those awful Muggles don't feed you enough."
Ron grabbed a plate and sat down next to me. We began talking about how life has been for Ron at Wedding Mission Control. A few minutes later, I heard someone coming down the stairs.
"Oh Harry! You're here!" Hermione said happily. I grinned as she gave me her customary hug.
"Have you eaten?" I asked as I retook my seat.
She nodded. "But I wouldn't mind another taste of the treacle tart," she said. As if on cue, Mrs. Weasley laid a plate of treacle tart in front of Hermione and gave her a warm smile. "Thank you Mrs. Weasley."
"My pleasure, dear."
"When did you arrive?" I asked Hermione.
"Just this morning."
We ate and talked about how the past month had gone for each of us, and just as we were finishing up, I heard someone coming down the stairs again. I looked up.
"Mum! Do I really have to wear this - Oh! Um, Hi Harry." Ginny Weasley appeared at the bottom of the steps, carrying a pale yellow robe adorned with ruffles. We stared at each other for a second.
"Hi Ginny," I finally said.
We stared at each other for another second. "So, um, I've got to see how the girls are doing," Ginny said, before making a beeline for the bridesmaids. I watched her leave, and then turned back to find Ron and Hermione watching me.
"Well," I said, with forced cheer, "that went well. I was afraid things might be a little awkward."
Ron snorted while Hermione gave me her 'sympathy eyes' - which, now that I think about it, is pretty much the reaction I get from them no matter what I say. The tense silence was starting to get to me, so I suggested that we go out back where it would be quieter and more private. Ron and Hermione followed me to the porch, and we took our customary seats around the small table.
I could tell that Ron had something on his mind. And after a minute of watching his interesting and amusing facial expressions, I found out what it was.
"Um Harry," he began, "about you and Ginny…" I looked at him, and though he faltered slightly, he bravely continued. "It's just that, well, I am her brother, after all. And you two seem okay, no fighting or tears or anything…but I was wondering…it's not that I'm prying, okay? It's just that I…well, it's your business, yours and Ginny's, I mean, but as her brother - and your best friend - I…what I'm trying to say is that…"
I traded a look with Hermione, and I could tell she also felt that at the rate this was going, it would be nightfall before Ron asked his question. Fortunately for all concerned, Hermione came to the rescue. "What I think Ron is trying to say," she said, "is that you and Ginny seemed so happy together. We were wondering what happened between the two of you." Ron gave her a grateful smile and then turned his attention to me.
"We were happy. And it wasn't anyone fault, Ron. We didn't fight or see other people. It's just…" I paused, trying to find the words. Introspection wasn't my thing, so this was proving to be difficult, though I've had plenty of time to think about it. I could've just made an excuse that would satisfy their curiosity, but there was some part of me that wanted to talk about it…I would definitely have to speak to that part later on, and most likely beat the snot out of it.
"When I was with Ginny, everything was great," I said. "But it wasn't really me."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, it was almost like it was someone else who was with Ginny, or that I was pretending to be someone else when I was with her. It's like I would wake up in the morning and put on a mask, a disguise, that made me look as though I were a normal wizard, and I would wear it whenever I was with Ginny. But whenever I had my sessions with Dumbledore or thought about Voldemort or the Horcruxes, I would take off that mask to be the real me. But for some reason, I couldn't not wear that mask when I was with Ginny; I couldn't be me around her." I was starting to get frustrated with my inability to voice my feelings, because I wasn't even making sense to myself.
Unsurprisingly, Ron was still confused. And getting angry. "You mean you were just pretending to have feelings for my sister?" he said aggressively, leaning forward. Hermione put a hand on his arm, and he calmed down somewhat.
"No, not at all," I said quickly. "I really care for Ginny, I do, but…there was always a part of me that I couldn't share with her." Seeing the expression on Ron's face, I added, "the part of me that knows I have to face Voldemort in the end."
"I think I understand," Hermione said slowly, ignoring Ron's shudder. "You just wanted to feel normal for once, so you kept that part of your life from her?"
I shook my head. "Sort of, but it's not that I simply chose to keep things from Ginny, like the prophecy, the Horcruxes, even my suspicions about Malfoy. We were together for a month, and I never felt like I could share those things with her."
"Why not?" Ron asked unpleasantly. "She fought against the Death Eaters at the end of last year, and she went to the Department of Mysteries with us the year before."
"I don't know why, Ron," I said truthfully. "But it's the same with Neville and Luna; they fought with us, but I just don't feel comfortable sharing that part of my life with them."
I did have some ideas why, though. Maybe I was afraid how they might react, knowing that 'the Chosen One' wasn't just something made up by the Daily Prophet. Maybe I wasn't entirely convinced that they saw me as plain old Harry Potter - even when I was with Ginny, I sometimes got the feeling that she still put me on a pedestal. Or maybe it was because I only felt comfortable sharing these things with Ron and Hermione because of everything we've been through together, because they truly understand the stakes involved.
"But I do know one thing," I continued. "It's unfair to her to keep such an important part of my life separate. If we were to continue dating, there'd always be things I'd keep from her, and I'm sure that would hurt her."
Ron sat quietly for a moment, mulling it over. "All right, Harry," Ron said resignedly. "I suppose it's for the best."
Hermione nodded encouragingly. "You did the right thing. It would have hurt her if you kept such important things from her. And, you never know, maybe after everything's over…?"
I shrugged, privately doubting my chances of making it that far. "Besides," I said, my mood darkening. "Look what happens when I let my guard down. I can't let that happen again."
"What do you mean?"
"The whole time I was with Ginny, laughing, having fun…what I should have been doing was figuring out what Malfoy was planning!" I said angrily. "If I hadn't been distracted, if I hadn't given in to some childish fantasy, then I could have prevented all of this!"
I looked at Ron and Hermione, and I could see the guilt in their eyes. Except for the one glance in their direction when I told everyone about the Room of Requirements after Dumbledore's death, I hadn't referred, however obliquely, to the fact that I was right about Malfoy, and that if they had only believed me or helped me…
And frankly, I wasn't about to start now. I wasn't in the mood to listen to their apologies or to help them relieve some of their guilt. Before either of them could speak, I stood up. "I need to go unpack," I said quickly, and walked back into the Burrow to fetch my trunk.
******
The next afternoon, I found myself with a bit of time on my hands. Ron was helping Bill and the other groomsmen put the finishing touches on the wedding preparations, while Hermione was helping Ginny and the rest of the bridesmaids. Not knowing much about anything when it comes to weddings, much less magical weddings, I wasn't much help. So instead, I spent the time wandering the Burrow and the grounds outside.
Hermione had explained that while wedding ceremonies usually take place in special halls or places - Stonehenge was apparently a popular, if not clichéd, location - it was decided that the Burrow would be the safest place considering all the Death Eater activity. It was more easily protected, what with all the ancient protective charms placed on the home by generations past, and there would be Aurors stationed discretely around the place. Although Mr. Weasley said the added security was for Percy, special assistant to the Minister, I knew it was for my sake; no doubt Scrimgeour would see it as a public relations disaster if Harry Potter were to be killed at a wedding.
It wasn't so bad, being alone at times. I kind of enjoyed the solitude. I'd felt like this before, most notably after I'd first heard of the prophecy. While I didn't want to be completely alone, I also didn't want to be around people, either. This was a nice compromise though, surrounded by people who cared about me, and yet by myself at the same time. It was how I felt most of last year, as if there was something separating me from everyone else, separating me from Ginny.
I walked around the backyard, which had been dramatically expanded somehow; I still wasn't clear on how you could just push back a forest or shove two houses out of the way, but I suppose that's why they call it magic. I was initially worried that, since the Weasleys weren't that well off, the Burrow wouldn't be able to match up to Fleur's expectations. But I had underestimated the power of magic, which did not depend on a family's wealth. Why buy flowers when they could be conjured up? I passed by a number of twinkling fairies and other magical beings, which, according to Charlie, were provided by Hagrid. I soon found myself in a small structure which, from the outside, resembled a gazebo, though larger and far more ornate. It was one room with an attached bathroom, and very comfortable-looking couches against the wall. I circled the place twice, trying to figure out what it was meant for, since the main reception/ceremony area was on the other side of the property.
"Eet ees used by ze bride and 'er bridesmaids," came a voice from the doorway, startling me. I looked over to the entrance, and somehow almost managed to trip over my feet when all I was doing was turning my head.
"Fleur," I said in a breathy voice.
She walked into the room, her long blond hair flowing behind her. "'Ello, 'Arry. My last night as a single witch shall be spent in zis room. It's tradition."
I nodded, finally recovering from her unexpected appearance. Ron was right - it's harder when she jumps out at you like that, when you're not prepared. "It's a beautiful place," I said.
"Yes, it is," she agreed. Then her face seemed to glow. "O' 'Arry, I'm so 'appy you're 'ere!"
"You are?" I said, surprised at her sudden excitement.
"Oui! I cannot wait for you to see Gabrielle again. Unfortunately she isn't arriveeng until tomorrow when ze rest of ze family arrives. She 'as grown into a beautiful young woman!"
I inwardly groaned, now that I could see where this was leading. "I'm sure she has," I said honestly, as being half-Veela, I had no doubt Gabrielle would be as pretty as her sister. But a young woman? She was, what, eight when I last saw her? I'm not sure what the laws are in the wizarding world, but that's wrong on so many levels.
"I can't wait to see her as well," I said, lying through my teeth. "How old is she now? Eleven?" Perhaps if Fleur was reminded how young her sister was, she wouldn't go further in trying to fix us up. But then again, she was French...
"O' no," Fleur said laughing, a delightful melody that filled the air as a mesmerizing smile appeared on her beautiful face, her -
"She ees almost fourteen! Ze same age, I believe, as your friend 'Ermione when she dated Veector Khrum."
"Fourteen! But she looked so young before!"
Fleur nodded. "Zat ees ze Veela blood; it makes us look younger, especially before we reach maturity."
"Oh," I said. So much for hopes of derailing her matchmaking efforts.
"Yes, eet will be wonderful," she said happily. "She ees very intellijant, tops at her class. She-"
"Oh, there you are Fleur! Madam Malkin has just arrived and - oh, Harry!"
For a split second I was grateful that someone had come to the rescue, until I saw that it was Ginny. I fidgeted slightly as Ginny came into the room, and managed to say, "Hi Ginny," which pretty much describes the depth of every conversation we've had since I arrived at the Burrow.
Fleur didn't seem to notice that anything was amiss. "Zahnk you Jinny," she said, and I had the feeling that had Fleur been standing next to Ginny, she would've patted her on the head. "'Arry, I must go. We shall continue zis later?"
"I can't wait," I said, hoping I sounded sincere. Fleur flashed one of her heart-stopping smiles and floated out of the room.
Which, of course, left me alone with Ginny.
"Lovely weather we're having," I said finally, after which I felt like kicking myself for saying something so inane.
"Yes, it is."
"Yeah…" I searched for something to say to this girl, who only a two month ago I was laughing with and kissing by the lake. Then I remembered the sight of the Burrow when I first portkey'ed in. "The sun's really shining brightly on the house."
Ginny nodded. "I'd hope so; that charm was expensive."
I cast my eyes about, looking for a topic of conversation when Ginny spoke. "Listen, Harry. Hermione and I talked about what you told her the other day."
"Oh?" I said, mentally picking out which of her books I would burn for breaking my confidences.
"Yes. And while I wasn't pleased, we talked about it. I can understand how you feel, Harry."
"Oh," I said, mentally picking out all the books that I would buy Hermione for her birthday. "Ginny…"
"She's right, you know. It would be too hard being with you, when there's such a big part of your life that you won't share with me. I wish you felt comfortable enough with me to include me in that part of your life."
"It has nothing to do with you," I said. "It's just that…I…"
"It doesn't really matter," she said sadly, and then she walked up to me and looked determinedly in my eyes. "But I want you to know, regardless of what happened between us, I trust you, Harry. I believe that you're our best chance to defeat You-Know-Who, and I'll follow you wherever you lead, no matter what."
"I, uh…thanks, Ginny. I really appreciate it," I said sincerely, touched by her words. "And I want you to know, that the time we had together…it really meant a lot to me. It was the first time I can ever remember when I felt normal, when I could leave all the pressures behind. I'll never forget it."
She smiled wistfully as she adjusted my collar, and then gave me a hug. I held her closely as I remembered all the moments we shared in the past. But then she pulled away and then left without another word. For a second, I thought about running after her, telling her I was wrong, and begging her to give it another go. But that would be lying, to her and to myself. As I watched her walk out of the room, it was as if I'd finally let go of that last part of me that clung to the idea that I could somehow avoid my fate.
******
I sat in the middle row of seats next to Hermione and Angelina Johnson as the wedding began. It was great to see Angelina again, and we caught up on safe topics - Quidditch, school, life after Hogwarts, etc. - while we waited for the wedding to begin. Bill and the rest of his brothers stood up front in matching dress robes as they waited for Fleur to enter. Bill looked much better than the last time I'd seen him in the Hogwarts infirmary; part of that was due to Madam Pomfrey's skill, but another part was due to the glamour that had been cast in order to not frighten the wedding guests who hadn't known of his tussle with Greyback.
When the music started, we all stood and turned to watch as the bridesmaids walked down the aisle, one-by-one. Ginny looked radiant, and we shared a poignant smile as she passed. And of course, one couldn't miss Gabrielle, who looked as stunning as I'd feared. I had hoped she would at least look all of ten years old, but alas, she looked as old as any fourth year. She smiled at me as we passed, despite my best efforts to avert my eyes and avoid any contact. Finally, Fleur appeared, accompanied by a collective gasp from the guests. She was absolutely beautiful in her wedding robes, and even Hermione was momentarily speechless.
The first part of the ceremony went by in a blur, mainly because I was too busy looking from Gabrielle to Fleur and back again. Finally, when I was yet again a second behind during one of those times when you're supposed to stand up (but to be fair, at least half of the guests were just as slow to stand as I was), Hermione elbowed me in the stomach and hissed, "Pay attention!" I gave Hermione a sheepish look.
But after that, I seemed to shake off the effects of the combined power of two half-Veelas (is that the same as one full Veela?) and was able to pay attention. The rest of the wedding was actually very entertaining now that was able to look at things other than Fleur and her sister. While I had been able to overcome their effects, not many of the other men were: the groomsmen were particularly bad, especially when you consider that the each had a role to play during the wedding. It was amusing, and after pointing out this or that to Hermione, I finally got her to crack a smile about it.
The reception was more relaxed, now that Fleur and Gabrielle weren't the focus of attention. I was able to enjoy my meal, sitting again with Hermione, Angelina, and Katie Bell, while Ron had to sit with his brothers at the head table. Once dinner was over, the room was magically cleared for dancing. Angelina and Katie went to find the twins, and Hermione was about to leave as well when I spotted Fleur and Gabrielle heading straight for me.
I grabbed Hermione's hand before she could more than two steps. She looked at me curiously, and nodded my heads towards Fleur. "Don't leave me!" I whispered desperately. She stayed, though whether it was because of my plea for help, or because her hand was staying regardless of whether or not the rest of her did, I wasn't sure.
"'Ello 'Arry!" Fleur greeting, kissing me on each cheek. Her face clouded slightly when she saw that I was holding Hermione's hand, but she recovered nicely and kissed Hermione on each cheek as well. "You must be properly introduced to my sister!" With that, she pushed Gabrielle towards me, and to my surprise she didn't have the look that I'd come to associate with girls who are impressed by my fame. Instead, she looked slightly embarrassed and irritated.
"'Ello," she said as we exchanged kisses. "Eet ees nice to meet you."
"Oh? Yes? I'll be right zere," Fleur said suddenly, to no one in particular. "I'm sorry, but I must be off. Still so much to take care of. Harry, you take good care of my sister, d'accord?" She winked and started off, but Gabrielle grabbed her arm. They traded some fierce whispers in French before Fleur untangled herself and escaped.
I nervously cleared my throat, though I was pleased that I wasn't overcome by her Veela-ishness. "So, how do you like Britain so far?" I asked politely.
"Mon Dieu!" she said bitterly. "Zis ees so stupeed."
I was a little taken aback. "Well," I said, trading looks with Hermione, "maybe you haven't seen the best parts of England yet."
"I'm sure England ees lovely," Gabrielle said, waving her hands. "It ees my sister oo is stupeed. She zinks that we should run off togezere, have ze grand love affair!"
"Oh. Well." Not what I was expecting at all.
"Oh, do not misunderstand!" she said. "You are wonderful, 'Arry. But I would prefer not to settle down at fourteen; I'm sure you understand."
"Of course," I said, happy that I wouldn't have to disappoint another girl this week.
"Bien. Well, I shall be off. It was nice to meet you again, 'Arry Potter," she said, smiling as she walked off, having ignored Hermione the whole time.
After she was gone, I smiled at Hermione. "Well, that went much better than I thought."
Hermione laughed, and was about to say something when Ron appeared. "Hermione? I was wondering if you wanted to - hey, what's going on?" I was momentarily confused by his abrupt change from nervousness to anger, but then I saw that he was staring at our hands, still intertwined. I let go immediately.
"Nothing's going on," I said. "Hermione was just doing me a favor."
"What kind of favor," he asked suspiciously, and a little nastily.
I felt my irritation grow. "How about next time I'll ask your permission before I touch Hermione, okay? Would that make you happy?"
Ron suddenly looked embarrassed and tried to act nonchalant. "Hey, do whatever you want. I don't care."
Hermione, who I could tell was getting annoyed by Ron's behavior as well, suddenly turned on me. "What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.
I threw up my hands. "Gah! Forget it!" I said and stalked away towards the refreshment table, leaving them bickering behind me. I picked up a small plate of wedding cake and returned to my table, where I could see Ron and Hermione still arguing. I sighed heavily.
I had hoped that I had seen the end of the arguing last year, after the horrific 'Won-Won' incident. But, it seems as if nothing had changed. I was still concerned for my best friends - what if they never spoke to each other again? - but at the same time I just wish they'd get it over with, whatever it might be. Date, don't date - just put me out of my misery!
A few minutes later my two best friends appeared, looking forlorn as they took seats on either side of me. "We're sorry, Harry," Hermione said.
"Yeah, I was stupid. I don't know what came over me."
"Over both of us," Hermione clarified.
I snorted. "Yeah, fine," I said, not wishing to talk about this at a wedding, or ever in fact. This was highly uncomfortable for me, and my dream would be that two of them resolve whatever needs resolving without my involvement. Fortunately, at that moment I spotted Lupin walking across the grounds.
I stood abruptly. "I need to go talk to Lupin."
"What about?" Hermione asked.
I looked at her. "About visiting Godric's Hollow. I figure he'd want to know, or come even." There was more to it than that, though. I had a lot of questions and concerns about my last humiliating encounter with Snape, and I hoped Lupin could help me. This was a subject that I hadn't discussed with anyone yet, and I didn't particularly feel like talking about it with either Ron or Hermione at the moment.
Hermione, it seemed, suspected that I was being only half-truthful. "Is that all?" she asked quietly.
I looked directly into her eyes. "That's all," I said, my voice firm and unwavering.
It was sort of an odd moment, small yet significant. Ron accepted what I'd said, as usual, but I could tell that Hermione didn't believe me. That in itself isn't new, as I'd kept things from her or told half-truths before, whether it was about homework assignments or my dreams. But in the past, I'd always had trouble lying to Hermione, looking anywhere but in her face. This time, though, I was able to look at her without flinching.
She looked a little sad as I turned away, and I knew that she recognized the shift in our relationship. It's one thing for me to lie to her, but to continue to lie even though I knew that she knows I'm lying…well, it marked a definite change in our friendship.
Perhaps it was because I had spent practically all of sixth year without her - or Ron's - help, and become accustomed to it. Or maybe I was still resentful that neither one of them believed or trusted me about Malfoy. It was probably both, but either way, I somehow felt as if I didn't need or want their help as much as before, that our friendship, while still strong, had been diminished somehow. And this was sad, because it meant that I felt separate from even them, and that, in so many ways, I was truly alone now.